Aftermath
by Ranguvar27
Summary: Stayne suffers the consequences of a drinking contest with Tarrant, and Alannah is less than sympathetic towards his plight.


Aftermath

Stayne slowly opened his eye, gasping harshly at the sunlight that seemed to penetrate his brain. He groaned in quiet agony and pulled the covers over his head, vaguely aware of the fact that his head was throbbing. He turned over, still buried underneath the covers, and blearily realized Alannah was not in bed with him. He peeked out from his hiding spot, and gulped quietly. She was standing in front of him, hands on her hips and an expression of amused exasperation on her face. Stayne blinked owlishly at her, and tried to smile, but the drum set in his head allowed for nothing more than a quirk of his lips.

"Uhhh…Hi Baby," he said tentatively, and Alannah glared at him. Stayne gave his half smile again, and spoke once more. "Umm…what happened?"

Alannah shook her head in exasperation and sat next to him, yanking the covers off. He moaned in agony and tried to pull them back over his head, but she moved them out of his reach, and he pouted at her.

Alannah rolled her eyes. "You and Tarrant got smashed on brambleberry wine last night at the Feast. Remember?" She punctuated the last word with a poke to his chest, and Stayne blinked. He could vaguely recall Tarrant challenging him to a drinking contest, and him bragging that no Mad Hatter was going to out drink the (former) Knave of Hearts. They both had begun the contest-ignoring the fact that their wives were giving them both glares that could have split a stone…

_Stayne poured his fifth glass-or was it his sixth? He had lost count. Brambleberry wine was quite potent, and it took a champion drinker to be able to handle more than three glasses. But Stayne was up to the challenge. No orange haired madman was going to beat him, nohow! He glanced over at Tarrant, smirking when he noticed he was only on his fourth glass. "Yer not comin along very well, Hatta," he smirked, words slurring slightly. Tarrant glared at him, and spoke, his lisp more pronounced than usual. _

"_Don' call me 'Atta, Knave!" _

"_Don' call me Knave, HATTA!" _

_Alannah and Alice both bit their tongues, torn between exasperation and amusement. Alice leaned back in her chair and spoke to Tarrant. "Love, maybe you better concede defeat. You look quite pixilated." She rolled her eyes as Tarrant glared at her, his eyes slightly unfocused. _

"_Givup? Nev…HIC….excuse me…Never! I intend ta win this con...contest. I'm…gonna…beat him." He poured himself another glass, spilling some onto his hand, and Alice sighed in defeat. _

"_Fine. But you'll regret this." Tarrant waved his hand at her in airy dismissal and gulped down the wine. _

_Alannah glared at Stayne. "I don't suppose there's any chance you'll act your age and quit?" Stayne blinked at her. _

"_Nope! I never turn down a chall…chall…" He rallied himself and slurred out the word. "Challenge!" He pointed in Tarrant's direction. "The Hatter challenged me, an' I inten' to….folla through. An' since when were you twins, babe?" He blinked, trying to focus, and Alannah rolled her eyes and ignored him the rest of the evening. _

_After the Feast was over, Alice and Alannah faced the challenge of dragging their unconscious husbands back home. They had both quietly passed out after seven drinks, and were snoring softly, their heads on the table. Alannah hooked her arms under Stayne's shoulders, hauling him to his feet, and Alice did the same to Tarrant. Alannah staggered under Stayne's weight and height, and was briefly considering just leaving him on the Banquet Hall floor when he opened his eye. _

_Stayne blinked drunkenly, trying to focus on Alannah. "Did I win?" She gave him a death glare, and he wisely shut his mouth. _

"_You...you…MAN." She huffed at him in exasperation, and he gulped. Alannah growled in annoyance. "Could you at least help me bear your weight a bit? Yer 'eavy." _

"_Oh. Yes, sure." _

_They made it to the cottage and Stayne collapsed on the bed and began snoring. _

Stayne bit his lip, giving Alannah what he hoped was an apologetic look. "Oh…yeah. Ummm…you're not feeling very sympathetic, are you?"

Alannah's voice was dry. "Why, whatever gave you that idea, Ilosovic?"

"The fact that you're glaring at me and you won't give me back the covers. The sun hurts my eye!"

Alannah patted him in pretend sympathy. "Poor baby". She handed him a small vial, smiling wickedly. "Here, drink this. It tastes absolutely vile, but it should cure your hangover."

Stayne gulped it down, coughing as he swallowed. "Good grief! What was in that?" He made a disgusted face, and Alannah grinned evilly.

"You don't want to know, trust me. Now, no more drinking contests with Tarrant, alright?"

Stayne nodded, relieved to find that his hangover had vanished. "Yes dear."

Alannah grinned and kissed him. "Smart man."


End file.
